


i will hide you when it gets too much

by dankobah



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (not that they explore the issues rey just has them), Blood, Chronic Fatigue, Chronic Pain Train, Endometriosis, F/M, Fertility Issues, Medical Marijuana Use, Very tender, and they were ROOMMATES, ben is a streamer, bodily fluids in general, fibromyalgia, ignorant doctors, lots of period talk, medical malpractice in some cases, pregnancy mentions, puke, rey has a customer service job, seriously, very soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:28:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25061641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dankobah/pseuds/dankobah
Summary: Even though he feels the excruciating pain everywhere, enough to make him tremble, she holds him close.“I love you, let me take care of you my darling.”He croaks, like a broken man,“Ditto.”
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 24
Kudos: 99





	1. you made it hurt too much

**Author's Note:**

> tags  
> listed above

He divines what type of day it is by a number scale.

From the moment his eyes blink open, and he feels the aches and pains that accompany his everyday existence, a number pops into his head. The number may seem small some days, like a three or a four. Some days it’s an eight or nine, just pushing the dreaded ten that has him calling his chiropractor despite his skin feeling like it's in flames and his nerves are firing off quicker than a firing squad on a full day. 

There are a lot of things wrong with Ben. Fibromyalgia for one, a problem with his nerves and how his brain perceives pain and pressure. Sometimes light touches feel like a sting that shouldn’t be there, sometimes a punch to the face hurts way less than just waking up. He’s tested the theory with one of his roommates before, literally having Poe sock him.

Then there’s the previous injury from his motorbike accident like six years before. He had been lucky he was wearing a helmet, because he would’ve died if he wasn’t. The whiplash made it unbearable to move his neck for weeks, and he cracked his tailbone by  _ bouncing  _ off asphalt. He didn’t think it was possible either.

Overall, he doesn’t know a life without constant pain. He still does things like workout with costly repercussions that look like kinesio tape holding the base of his spine together when he can’t do it by himself. 

His whole day is curated around hurting, how he moves and what he eats. He’s not willing to give people any ammunition and tell him he’s eating poorly, so he eats clean, low inflammation foods. He takes his medication for his bipolar disorder on time, he doesn’t drink.

The only thing that people could argue with him about is his marijuana consumption. Ben is a medical card holder, so according to the state of Washington, he’s allowed to consume whatever he fucking feels like. His poison is edibles and oil cartridges, because smoking always felt like a dirty act to him whenever he tried it. Vaping and ingesting weed pack the most punch on his pain.

This morning is definitely an edibles type day, given he can’t get out of bed until after noon. He still has the decency to make himself breakfast, his heating pad belt wrapped around his waist and sitting on the small of his aching back. 

He finds it hard to breathe when his pain is this persistently bad, sitting at a seven as he flips his bacon with a fork. Once he’s done doing that, he opens up the cabinet and goes through his supplements, all the way to the back where he hides his very strong edibles for bad pain days. He keeps the lighter ones easily accessible in his nightstand drawer, so he’s not taking a hundred milligrams in a shot and fucking his tolerance. The strong ones are reserved for the days where he’s in so much pain he can’t see straight or even move. Those days are when he eats an entire five hundred milligram chocolate bar, tells his audience he can’t stream due to pain reasons, and goes to bed. 

He picks up one of those edible drinks, a fruit punch. It’s about two hundred milligrams and he contemplates his options. He could take all of it and go back to bed and do a stream later after more (hopefully) body recuperating rest. Or he could take half and still be a bit functional to play Fortnite and do his weekly Reddit recap. 

He swallows all of it in a couple of chugs, hating the faux Kool Aid taste that makes his skin crawl. He gags, and hears a door from down the hall slam. 

Poe works out of the house and it’s a Tuesday, so the only culprit would be their new roommate: Rey.

She’s a sweet girl, only about twenty one and definitely stretched thin. Rey works two jobs from home that he’s gathered, freelance writing and online customer service for Amazon. On top of that, she’s in online school, so their schedules have been hell to coordinate. Ben is a loud streamer sometimes, getting famous off a rant about Burger King and the size of their fries while coming out number one on Fortnite. 

She’s living in a shoebox that the landlord they’re renting from calls a bedroom. Ben and Poe originally couldn’t find anyone to take that room and were fine with the extra rent, but Poe then came home with Rey with not much explanation.

Is she even on the lease? He’s not sure. 

Ben doesn’t ask a lot of questions and she really doesn’t talk to him. They only talk about the essential shit. Even telling each other they’re being too loud is sent in a text, or three knocks on the door. It was a transition he’s still getting used to.

The pop of oil brings him back to the now and then he hears something that sounds like puking. He furrows his brows and pokes his head out of the kitchen to look down the hall. Their shared bathroom is open, but he can’t see in from this vantage. 

He thinks this through while there’s silence. Did he just imagine the noises? Or is Rey puking her guts-

More retching sounds leave the bathroom and Ben turns the heat off the bacon and takes it off the burner. Then he quietly tiptoes to the bathroom, getting as close as he can without having to look in.

“Rey?”

There’s a squeak, and then a few coughs. She sniffles.

He pokes his head in to look at her. “You good?”

She answers, with a hoarse voice, “Just-“

She pauses to cough again, “Bad day so far.”

Oh, doesn’t he know it. He can’t say that out loud so he only nods, since she’s not looking. 

“Want some water?”

She shakes her head, gripping the back of her neck and doubling over. It’s clear from the position that she’s having intense pelvic pain, something he gets like the back of his hand. What could cause the puking though?

He supposes that he’s puked from excruciating pain before. 

“How bad are you hurting?”

She whimpers, “I’m okay.”

“No you’re not, don’t lie to me. I’m here. What do you need?” There’s adrenaline hopping through his blood like the chemical is playing leapfrog on fast-forward. 

She answers, “Just...can you get me something from my bedroom-“

“Rey, I can just put you in your room.” 

Rey answers, “I can’t walk-“

“I would pick you up, if that’s okay? Just tell me what to do.” Half the time, picking up anything makes him want to throw it against the wall in response because it hurts so bad. He usually outlasts it though, so he feels confident in picking her up.

He doesn’t know why he cares so much, given she’d never do anything on his bad fibro days. How he knows that is pretty simple: people would rather abandon someone in chronic pain than deal with it. Only a few caregiver type personalities and patience levels exist, and he’s not that guy and neither is Rey.

“O-Okay.” Her agreement spurs him into action, being careful about lifting her from the floor. He makes sure he doesn’t hurt himself in the process of shifting her into a bridal carry and carries her out of the bathroom and into her bedroom. Ben hasn’t been in here too much, but she’s put up posters since she’s moved in. Her sheets are a creamy oatmeal, and that’s when the patch of blood catches his eye.

A  _ period _ , he can deal with a bad period. Plenty of girlfriends have cleared him on his period minding. 

He ducks down to accommodate the ceiling as he lays her in bed, reaching blindly at the foot of her bed for a blanket. He tugs on one, finding it to be weighted. He tugs harder and pulls it over her. She’s shivering, covering her mouth with her hand with her eyes shut. Her other hand is clutching her stomach and it makes him worry further.

He asks, “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”

She croaks through her hand, “Lower stomach, right side.” 

He nods and thinks through all sorts of conditions that could cause that. If anything, the normally super lithe Rey looks a little bloated (not that he stares at her body a lot). She just wears a lot of crop tops to show off toned abs that she most certainly earns from the home workouts he sometimes hears late at night. 

He asks, “Can I get you a heating pad? Do you have one?” God knows he has plenty, definitely enough to spare one for her if she doesn’t.

Like he predicted, she shakes her head. He nods and walks quickly out of the room, treading to his bedroom and rifling through his bottom dresser drawer. It’s his chronic pain drawer and he has older heating pads he doesn’t use as much. 

He picks out one made out of red flannel that’ll wrap over her stomach and even behind her back if she wants it. He looks for an outlet and finds one, plugging it in and setting the pad on her stomach, over her hand. It moves and clutches over the heating pad as he turns it on. “Should I call anyone?” She’s white as a sheet, but still manages to look a little embarrassed. 

“No, I think I’m okay.” She’s not okay, not by a long shot, and he knows that deep down after telling himself the same lies on bad pain days too. 

“Okay. You know you could like...yell for me if you need me. I’ll be in my room, I’ll let you know if I’ll be sleeping-“

“I’m really fine, Ben.” Being pushed away feels awful and he swallows down his pride to nod. 

“For sure. I’ll leave you be.” 

He then walks out of the room, trying not to slam the door too hard on his way out. 

Guilt racks his brain as he walks numbly to the stove once again, and puts the bacon back on the heat and tries very hard to ignore the heat rash he’s getting on his belly from constant contact with the heating belt. 

He also tries to ignore his beautiful roommate in pain in the other room.

* * *

Endometriosis flare-ups are no joke.

Rey knew one was coming with her period, like it does every time, having excruciating pelvic pain in the days leading up to the main event.

She didn’t even have an opportunity to notice the blood pooling between her legs before she had to run and vomit from the sheer force of cramps rocking through her. This flare up feels worse than the others, she can tell from the moment her head hit the toilet.

What she didn’t expect was Ben to come in and offer to take her back to her room when she could actually see straight again. The pain sometimes blurs her vision, unfocusing everything like a bad prescription lens. 

And yet she was an ass to him, denied her pain, and shooed him out of her room. For what reason? Vanity? The guy saw her period blood probably. 

As usual, she’s running on empty so her thoughts make less sense than usual. You see, her endometriosis makes her periods into hell, which exacerbates her myalgic encephalomyelitis, or chronic fatigue syndrome. Rey didn’t know how that came about exactly, just knowing that one day she got chicken pox at thirteen (having never been vaccinated against it), and nothing was the same. She was more exhausted, unwilling to play sports due to joint pain and being so exhausted.

School had been hell, even when she was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome. Teachers never seemed to understand when she missed school, and Rey practically had to fight tooth and nail for the resources and clearance to do online school in her senior year so she could make exemplary grades for college.

Online school and online work make everything easier, because sometimes laying down can exhaust her. She tries hard to be a great friend despite her chronic illness, going out on Friday nights, although drinking worsens her inflammation and dancing fucks with her energy levels and takes her out for four whole days. Rey would have intense FOMO if she didn’t go out with Rose and Kaydel, and they don’t know that she needs more rest than the usual person. They probably just think she’s some mega recluse, and that’s it. 

Rey is not having any semblance of fun today, and to top it all off, the feelings of loneliness have stacked up to a fever pitch as she lay in her own sweat and smells rust from between her legs. She can hear Ben streaming in the room just beyond the bathroom next door, and her stomach rolls with another cramp. 

Rey clutches the heating pad to her tummy and shuts her eyes, hearing the beginnings of his wrap up. She has it memorized and mouths it with him, “Kylo Ren, signing off of today’s stream, and remember to never apologize for being funny.” 

Then she hears him cough, and her eyes shut again as she hears the door slam.

She expects him to walk to the kitchen, but the creak of floorboards indicates otherwise and there’s a knock on her door. Rey sits up, foolishly intending to answer it until another pain racks her body and she doubles over on herself with a  _ whoosh  _ of breath. “Rey? It’s Ben. Was wondering if you wanted something from Postmates? My treat, I made a lot off that stream.” 

How nice. She would cry if she had the energy, and she answers with, “Could you get me Chipotle? I’ll text you my order.”

Her door opens anyway and she’s glad her weighted blanket is on so he can’t see her ratty bra and panties she’s stripped down to. The lighting is low, her nightlight and stars projector pointed at the slanted ceiling and projecting blue and swirling ocean waves. Her window is open, the orchard cicadas blaring their song loud and soothing her fraught mind. Overall, she’s got a vibe set up that he doesn’t seem prepared to walk into.

He holds out his phone anyway and she sees Chipotle open, getting the message and slowly inputting her order while holding her belly. She orders a rather simple burrito, before she bites her lip and realizes she very well might pound through a burrito in a single sitting and who  _ knows  _ where her next meal is coming from-

“Want to split chips and queso too?” He’s peering at the screen, at how her fingers hover on the appetizers and she swallows down and nods. 

Her voice is quiet, vulnerable without meaning it to be and she fucking hates herself for it, “Can I get tacos too?”

She expects him to say no, or to act like he didn’t hear her and take the phone. Ben stretches instead, and that’s when she sees something strapped around his middle. She wonders what it is as he answers, “Knock yourself out. If you think you will eat all of it.”

She nods and answers quickly and brash, “I don’t waste food.” 

He holds up his hands in defense and she continues to order three tacos and then hands the phone back to him and flops back over and clutches herself hard. Ben asks, “Can I touch your shoulder?”

At least he asks. Most of the time, her shoulders flare up in pain and anyone grasping them makes her feel flames. She had to teach Poe to tap instead of grab, just for her own sanity. She asks, “Why?” 

He replies, “Don’t know. Sometimes human touch helps pain. There are a lot of theories.” 

She remarks, “No offense, but the last thing I want when I’m in pain is to be touched. I’d rather the toucher get their wrist caught in a bear trap.” 

She doesn’t realize how she sounds until she says it, and lifts her head to see his dejected face. Her lips turn down and he clears his throat. “Chipotle is ordered. I’ll bring it to you when it’s here.”

“Wait-“

It’s too late, given he’s walking out and slamming her door like someone lit his pants on fire. 

She sighs to herself and dramatically flops to scream into the pillow in pure frustration.


	2. i’ll be right beside you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It doesn’t strike her that she could ask someone for help until the night before, and Poe is already out for the night. He also probably can’t because he has work in the morning. Asking strangers, like Ben, for help is like someone burning rubber on her brain. 
> 
> But she really can’t afford the Uber, and she’d be an idiot not to ask.
> 
> **She texts him pretty late, around twelve or so in the morning.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags  
> medical negligence  
> bad doctors  
> crying  
> Ben takes edibles  
> pregnancy mention

School drags.

Her roommate looking wounded every time they’re in the same room does too.

Rey knew he was trying to be nice but she didn’t want Ben to be particularly touchy with her. They barely know each other, and Rey wanting it would’ve been inappropriate.

But she did want it at the same time, meaning a strong reassuring hand on her shoulder and whispered reassurances. Is that so bad to want? Is she a needy monster for wanting attention from a man for once? 

Her pelvic pain subsides to a dull roar after two days, and that’s when she decides that she needs to go to the doctor and get her definite diagnosis set in stone. It’s been two months since she last went and was practically shooed from the office with the reassurance that her pain was “normal” and sometimes “periods just do that”. But is sex supposed to feel like a sting and a very unsupportive stretch? Is she supposed to puke when she’s in so much pain she can’t see?

Is all of that truly normal? That’s not even mentioning the chronic fatigue and the hormone imbalances, how her periods can last fifteen days and feel like a slow call to death rather than a natural process. She makes the appointment with a new doctor on her Medicaid, luckily being a citizen and having the luxury. Anyone without insurance, with chronic health conditions, has her entire sympathy. 

Setting the appointment is easy, choosing a woman doctor like she always does and calling around on the insurance list. It’s limited in Seattle, offices mostly in the city so her commute will be hellish. She can’t drive (well, she can but she’s not licensed), so she’ll have to rely on a twenty dollar Uber both ways. 

It doesn’t strike her that she could ask someone for help until the night before, and Poe is already out for the night. He also probably can’t because he has work in the morning. Asking strangers, like Ben, for help is like someone burning rubber on her brain. 

But she really can’t afford the Uber, and she’d be an idiot not to ask.

She texts him pretty late, around twelve or so in the morning.

* * *

**| Rey - 12:04 AM |**

feel free to ignore this but can you drive me to my doctor’s appointment tomorrow? i’ll give you 20 dollars

* * *

She feels like a little kid asking for candy, tugging on their mommy’s skirt and only able to point at what she needs. Will Ben understand the gravity of the situation, how she really needs this diagnosis to have some semblance of peace in her head?

For some reason, Ben calls her. Her phone vibrates across her weighted blanket, and she picks it up to peer at the faceless contact, at the name that reads **Ben? Solo** **(Roommate)**. She really needs to update that, the man bought her Chipotle. 

She answers it because she can’t be cold, and she needs to listen to him and his probable rejection.

Instead of letting him talk though, her mouth rushes out, “Why did you call me? I’m literally one room over.” 

He sighs, and she’s said something wrong or impossible. To be fair, she wouldn’t want to get up either. He quietly answers, “What time is your appointment?”

She bites her lip and checks her laptop, at the calendar app that’s too booked for someone with chronic fatigue. How she’s alive this week is a mystery. She replies, “Two.” 

He doesn’t think for a long time, “Send me the address so I can figure out when we need to leave. Ideally you should be there about fifteen minutes early to fill out paperwork, the medication section always takes me awhile-”

She interrupts, “This isn’t my first rodeo. Thank you for the consideration though.” 

There’s a long pause before he says, “If you say so.”

There’s another awkward silence and Rey whispers, “Thanks, Ben. I mean it.”

He replies, “No problem.”

* * *

She’s glad she set her appointment in the afternoon, because her morning flare up nearly kills her.

Literally, she gets a cramp so bad that she almost blacks out in the shower. That’s pretty fucking shitty if she can be candid. 

But Rey pulls it together with the heating pad that Ben loaned to her and sheer will. She’s on fucking empty but she gets out of her room, fully dressed in a baggy pink and white tie dye sweatsuit set. It’s so she can have her high waisted panties and a pad on, and still cute as she can feel right now. She has more professional clothes for work but this is not a work obligation. 

She has pages upon pages of notes, highlighted to hell and also color coded. Ben is waiting in the living room, twirling his keys around his finger. A messenger bag is over his shoulder and he views her up and down with speculation. She hates it, wants the pity to go away. 

“Ready?”

She nods and replies, “As I’ll ever be. Oh uh, remind me to give you twenty bucks-“ 

“Keep it.” 

She furrows her brows and says, “Are you sure? Gas money and such-“

“I never go out so I barely use gas. It’s really okay.” Then he turns and walks out the front door to where the black Subaru is parked on the street. He unlocks it and Rey locks the door with the puppy key that Poe got her the day she moved in. Then she manages to get down the stairs with little pain, sighing as she has to scrunch up to get into the car.

He’s also making a face, and she wonders why. “I have seat warmers, in case your back hurts.”

She nods and he reaches over to her side of the console to click both of them on to the highest setting. Then he tunes the radio to a very neutral choice of NPR, and pulls out onto their neighborhood street. She clicks her seatbelt into place and lays her head back against the headrest to watch out the window.

Ben asks, “Are you nervous?” 

At least he has the decency to ask. Rey shrugs and says, “Doctors never listen to me. I’m hoping this one is different.” She’s holding out hope because this is all she has: hope for the better, not the best. 

He hums and keeps his eyes on the road, even when she studies his angular profile, how his nose dominates his face. Why does his care make her feel so rosy? She supposes it's been so long since she’s had attention from a man that seems to actually care. 

It could never work out with him. She doesn’t know why, but it couldn’t.

* * *

The doctor’s office is a cold clinical thing inside of a medical center. Her vitals have already been taken by the physician’s assistant, her medical history input into her chart, and she’s just waiting for the doctor to come in and either ruin her day or make it.

Ben is waiting in the parking garage for her, since she told him that she could get in alright by herself. Turns out, it was actually excruciating to walk the stairs of the parking garage, but he couldn’t help her with something like that. 

She waits patiently, in a gown since she described her pelvic problems and painful periods in great detail to the assistant. The most reassuring sign is that the physician’s assistant actually reaffirmed that it’s not normal for a monthly cycle to hurt so much or last two weeks with a simple, “That’s not supposed to happen.”

There’s a knock on the door and Rey straightens out as much as possible. “Come in!”

A woman with a bob haircut and mousy brown hair comes into the room, wearing a very professional blouse and slacks, with a stethoscope hanging around her neck. She holds out her hand to Rey to shake, “Dr. Mothma, pleased to meet you, Rey. What brings you into my office?”

Rey opens up, “Well I’ve already gone through a physical with like six other doctors and...I’m having a lot of bad pain on my period? Especially this month, it feels like a knife is puncturing my stomach.”

Before she can assess Mothma’s face, she goes on. “I almost blacked out in the shower at a cramp this morning. It’s gotten really bad, worse as I age. Also it exacerbates my chronic fatigue-“ 

“Chronic fatigue?” The way she says it, the way her nose turns up at it, lets Rey know she’s about to lose. 

“Look, from what I can see on your chart, you look like an extremely healthy girl-“

Rey argues, “I spend most of my day in bed, running on empty because I can’t get up. Like that’s not normal-“

“Have you considered depression?”

That’s the final straw for her, “You didn’t even care to listen to me describe my periods at all. There’s something wrong and I can’t spend all day fighting to point it out to you.” She then snorts, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Pain on your period is normal.”

“This isn’t normal!” She doesn’t mean to yell but her expectations were built up too high for this lady for her to be treating her like this. Rey could combust if she very well felt like it, but she keeps her cool.

Mothma flips through her chart again, before clapping her hands together. “Well, I can still do the examination on you, or if you’ve determined that I can’t help you, you are welcome to leave.”

Her jaw sets and she then sighs heavily. 

“Go ahead.”

* * *

He’s glad he’s brought a book with him, because waiting for her would’ve been utterly boring otherwise.

There’s not much to do in a parking garage that diminishes your cell signal, but he tries his best with his Kindle and a color by numbers app on his iPhone. 

He wonders, idly, how she’s faring in there after an hour has passed. To answer his question, she yanks on the car door as the thought pops into his head. 

He unlocks the car after he’s done jumping out of his skin, and that’s when she opens the door and he hears her  _ sobbing _ . Straight up sobs, not weak little tremors that barely rock a voice box. She gets in the car, wiping her eyes and mascara smudging all over the backs of her knuckles as she literally cries. 

So it went well, clearly. Ben is at a loss for words, and he’s glad she starts to talk. “I’m in so much pain and no one believes me.” 

She wipes snot from her nose and hiccups, “I mean seriously, no one fucking believes me. I could get shot in the leg and someone would go on their merry fucking way!” 

Then she tosses her papers at her feet and crosses her arms over her chest in a defensive manner that he always does when his shoulders are too tight and ratcheted in place with emotion. Ben says, pathetically, “I would care.” 

She whips her head over at him, like she’s forgotten he’s there and watches her with wary eyes with an Elsa coloring page open on his phone. “I’m sorry it went so bad.” God can he relate before he found Holdo. She was the only one who listened to him fully, and didn’t think he was just trying to be lazy or weak.

He’s speaking again, “I have a doctor that I go to that’s a family friend-“

“Does she take Medicaid?”

He clamps his teeth together and shrugs. “I’m not sure, I can get you her card so you can call. Tell her I referred you or something.” He might make a call himself, because he knows the desperation Rey is under. To get a solid diagnosis takes time and cash in this country, and Rey clearly is strapped of the second resource. 

He doesn’t know what to do or if he should overstep his boundaries. Are medical sugar daddies a thing?

Is he setting a precedence he could keep up if he pays for her appointments? What if she needs major surgery? There’s no way to know what she could possibly need.

She wipes her eyes again and sighs heavily, chest heaving as she does and making his belly hurt. Ben wants to reach out and reassure her, but he knows she doesn’t like to be touched.

“I’m really sorry, Rey.”

She whispers, “Not your fault.”

No, it isn’t, but he wishes he could do something.

* * *

Her head hurts really bad, to top the night off. 

She assumes it is dehydration from crying but she can’t be sure. Either way, she’s out of water and cruising through Amazon and looking at chronic pain products she can’t afford. Rey barely makes rent most months, and doesn’t eat the best diet. She looks for things that make her feel full, not necessarily nutritious, which is cheap here.

She wishes she could afford to eat clean and organic like Ben does, based on what she sees on his side of the fridge. It’s all oat milk, kale, and sunshine in Ben’s world.

What Rey does, after a really shitty fucking day, is treat herself on her credit card to a new heating pad. It’s king sized, bigger than the one Ben gave her, and has an extra long cord so she doesn’t have to contort. For extra measure, she throws in pain cream in hopes that it could alleviate some of the really bad pain and inflammation in her uterus and lower back. Since Amazon is so close, it’ll all be there in the morning and she can sleep easier knowing her workday might not be so bad. It’s hard to be a nice customer service representative when it feels like your uterus is consuming itself.

She gets hungry around eleven, and has the strength to get out of bed and toss the sweater she was using as a tissue (she ran out, who could blame her) into the laundry pile. Then she waddles out of her room and to the kitchen, plucking the box of fruit gushers she’s saved for a bad day from the cabinet. They’re unopened and she opens up the box and opens up a package of gushers as she sits on the counter.

She eats happily, tasting the processed sugar and feeling infinitely better for it. She hears a door slam, then quick feet on the ground. Ben rushes into the kitchen, clutching a hot water bottle to his lower back like a pregnant woman would clutch there. Rey furrows her brows and asks, “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer her, ripping open the cabinet and nearly sweeping a bunch of supplement bottles onto the floor in pursuit for something behind them all. Rey painfully hops down and watches him grab a plastic encased and foil wrapped chocolate bar. 

Rey knows that’s an edible, she’s not an idiot. Is her roommate a pothead?

Ben rips open the plasting and shoves half of the entire chocolate bar in his mouth. He chews and swallows furiously, all while she watches with confusion and worry at his fervor and need to get marijuana into his body as soon as possible. Then he eats the other half, tosses the waste in the trash and finally turns to her. His face is twisted up.

“Bad night.” 

Then he walks out, like it didn’t happen.

She stares at her empty pack of Gushers. 

She hopes he’s okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts and feelings welcome at [twitter](https://twitter.com/dankobah)
> 
> chapter title is inspired by [“beside you” by marianas trench](https://youtu.be/ojP7QzIw3Uc)


	3. it all seems so simple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben looks horrified. 
> 
> She takes the moment to ask, **“How old is Poe exactly turning? I always forget.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags  
> alcohol consumption   
> birthday parties  
> rey has a bad flare up   
> edible consumption  
> body image issues (rey makes a side comment about Ben noticing her stomach being “soft”)  
> needles and ear piercing on a child (rey tells a story about piercing her own ears with a needle and an apple)

His pain is at an eight, which means the day is done before it starts.

His flare ups are suddenly becoming worse, more debilitating to the point where he can’t exercise properly or even really get out of bed. Pressure on his skin makes him want to send a fist through a wall and he can’t think straight as he fails to get comfortable in bed. 

He hasn’t left his room all day, Poe fortunately working from home today and able to toss him food twice. He’s living on junk food but he can’t eat anything else, too sick to his stomach from pain in his sacrum that radiates out.

He’s scowling at the ceiling when there’s a knock on the door.

“What.” 

It’s not a come in, because he doesn’t want anyone but Poe and his doctor to see him in pain. Poe is practically his brother and he pays Holdo to take care of him. Rey asks, “Can I come in?”

He questions, “Why?” 

She confesses, like it’s a dirty secret, “I’m bored and I brought you some stuff. A care package, if you will.” He furrows his brows. 

Does his roommate want to hang out with him? Enough to bring him something? That’s new for sure and it spikes his curiosity. “Okay.”

The door opens, the hallway is lit up by the overhead light and Rey is standing in tan footie pajamas with two rectangle shaped objects in her grip. He lets his head drop back down and stares back up at the ceiling as she shuffles to his bed. Then she holds two chocolate bars, edibles from what he can divine. His eyebrows rise and she pokes her head into view with a smile.

“I thought you would need these, maybe? I don’t know, I got them from my friend Rose, she works at a dispensary, actually.” How Washington of Rose. He’s grateful though as he reaches for them and takes them, immediately checking the doses.

They’re not measly by any means, which means Rey probably paid for these. He quietly says, “I can’t take these.”

Her brows furrow, “Why not?”

He sheepishly admits, “I don’t feel like I deserve it.” Is it so bad to want something like edible chocolate bars? Or to feel you’ve earned them?

“Then don’t think of it like a gift. Think of me like a pharmacist and you are a patient.”

He sighs and struggles to sit up, and Rey takes one chocolate bar from him and starts to open it up. He watches her with what he presumes to be sad eyes. Maybe they look more annoying than that but he still sighs and watches her break it in half. 

“You’re not allergic to peanut butter right?”

He shakes his head and takes half the bar between his fingers, starting to nibble. Rey reads the packaging as he does and he asks, “How are you?”

She glances up and says, “I’m okay. I got your email with Holdo’s information. She doesn’t take Medicaid but-“

She sighs and shrugs, “I can just save up. It’ll be fine.” 

He bites his lip and keeps eating, then saying, “I’m sorry. I just know she’s like one of the few people who would listen to me when things were debilitating. I’m seeing her soon about some stuff.” He keeps it cryptic because Rey doesn’t need him to spill his guts on the floor.

Rey reaches up and rubs her eyes, and then he starts on the other half of the chocolate bar. “How much am I taking right now?” 

Rey replies, “Five hundred.”

He lies back again and replies, “Rad.” Then he continues to eat, hoping that the THC will float him somewhere else that’s easier to exist in. Rey watches him as he does and he wants to ask if he has something on his face.

He knows she’s just worried and he wishes he could assuage her worries in one fell swoop. He really can’t though, unable to do it for his own panicked hypochondriac-like cerebrum. Is he just making up these issues? Is it worth receiving edibles from Rey?

He says, quietly, “Thanks.”

There’s a lengthy silence.

Then she replies, “No problem, Ben.” 

* * *

Her skirt feels way too short for a birthday dinner, but goddamn it, Poe requested she wears a suitable dress.

_ “None of that overalls or grandma robe shit, Niima.” _

She plucked a tight yellow long-sleeved dress from her closet, clearly a mini. It clings to her body, ruching at the bottom with little ties to make the skirt tighter. She turns around in the bathroom mirror, staring at the profile of her ass to back ratio.

She feels too bloated to stare at this angle for too long and turns back forward to hear a knock at the bathroom door. It could be the only other person using this bathroom, and she opens up the door to Ben. He’s adjusting a denim jacket on his frame and she furrows her brows.

“Are you going?”

She didn’t think Ben was a birthday party type person. Especially given the fact that he’s only left the house to go to the doctor twice in five days. She wouldn’t want to go to a party after that fuckery. Ben reaches past her to grab his watch, a Breitling. She wonders how a streamer can afford a Breitling, but it’s not her position to ask what Ben Solo can afford. “Yes. For the dinner party, at least.” 

They’re all planning on going out after for karaoke, and she didn’t think Ben would be a karaoke type of guy. She asks, “How’s your pain?”

He’s putting the watch on his wrist and avoiding her gaze as he answers, “Not good. Not good at all.” Then he leans in the doorway, watching her pick out a pair of small hoop earrings that are definitely the wrong metal and will make her ears swell. Anything for Poe though, and she shoves the studs through her ears.

He shudders and says, “God, I don’t get earrings. Shit is freaky.” 

She shrugs, “Pretty though.” She’s very simplistic when it comes to things she likes, having gone without so much growing up. 

She remarks, “I pierced my own ears actually. With a sewing needle and apple.” She had seen it on the Parent Trap over at some girl’s house, and Rey was dumb enough to do it and lucky enough not to get an infection and die. 

Ben looks horrified. She takes the moment to ask, “How old is Poe exactly turning? I always forget.” 

“Thirty four.” 

She nods and then smooths over her hips again. She hopes Ben doesn’t notice she’s soft around the middle right now, unfortunately bloated and inflamed. Today hasn’t been a good pain day and she wants to ask for help or guidance, but knows that Ben probably has nothing to remove her uterus on hand.

So instead she asks, “Do you have a hot water bottle I can take in the Lyft?” Poe told Rey that she was riding with him in the Lyft to the restaurant, and she has no car so she didn’t question it.

Though Ben says, “You can ride in my car, if you want.” She furrows her brows.

Is he offering her a ride? Rey wouldn’t have to split cash for the Lyft if she rode with him, nor deal with the embarrassment of holding a hot water bottle on her belly. She nods in agreement, “Okay. I’ll ride with you then.” 

He claps his hands together and says, “I’ll get it hot for you. Ready to leave soon? I need to get gas soon, depending on traffic.” She nods and walks past him, exiting the bathroom and walking to her tiny room. It barely fits a twin bed, dresser, and desk. He follows her, watching her collect her things and throw them in a worn black purse.

“Do you like karaoke, Ben?”

He perks up and then shakes his head, “No, I’m thirty one. I don’t do that shit.”

She argues, “Poe is thirty four and you wouldn’t think any less of him-“

He holds up a hand to halt her, “You don’t hear how much I make fun of him for liking karaoke. So yes, I can technically be a dick.” She shrugs at that, not wanting to get in the middle of that brotherly type shit. She knows Poe and Ben consider themselves to be like brothers from other mothers, even though Ben’s mother supposedly helped raise Poe through his teenage years and kept him on the straight and narrow.

Rey shucks her bag over her shoulder and says, “Ready. I think Poe and all of them are outside.” 

Poe has had friends over all day, enjoying the summer sun in the backyard and playing extremely homoerotic shirtless badminton with Finn. Ben nods and leads the way out into the backyard, where lawn chairs are set up and a Yeti cooler is set out with a bunch of beers on ice. Poe has changed from shorts and no shirt to an orange long sleeve, buttons open to expose his chest and the real gold chain that sits across his collarbones. Poe knows how to dress, pale khakis also on his frame, with smart loafer/sandal type things on his feet. He exudes a man in Miami in the 80’s, which she knows is his desired aesthetic. 

He pounds fists with Ben, “Nice to see you two lurches ready. Rey, you ready to take a Lyft soon? It’s about two minutes away.”

Ben answers for her, “She’s going in my car. Hey, do you still have that hot water bottle I let you borrow for that one time you pulled-“

Poe interrupts, “We don’t need to talk about the injury. It’s in the hall closet, with the rest of your medical shit.” He nods, and Ben walks away to go find the bottle.

Poe raises his eyebrows at her now, “So you two-“

She replies, “I have no idea what you’re getting at but whatever it is, it’s not funny.” 

He holds up his hand and says, “No harm no foul, Miss Rey. I’ll keep my lips sealed until later. Then you won’t be able to shut me the fuck up.” He laughs then and her eyes roll.

“We’ll see you at Cheesecake Factory.” Then she walks away, back into the house and hearing the microwave whir. Entering the small galley kitchen, the hot water bottle rotates around the microwave while Ben chews on his thumb nail. 

“Is there another one for you?” 

He looks over and she clasps her hands behind her ass like a little school girl would. She’s trying to open herself up to him, allow him a dartboard to throw emotion charged darts at. He doesn’t take the bait, “No. I’ll be okay.” 

She says, “We can share. Five minutes for me, five for you-“

He interrupts, “It’s okay, Rey. I have a heating device if I need it. It’s in the car.” 

That piques her curiosity. “Where’d you get it? Can you use it without a plug?”

Ben answers, “Yeah it’s portable, and it was a gift from my mom. I can ask her if you’d like to know.” 

She admits, “I’m jealous of you now, I would love a portable heating pad.” 

He laughs and the microwave dings. Grabbing the hot water bottle, it’s wrapped in a basic black sleeve. She holds it to her tummy and relishes in the heat hitting her rolling cramps. 

“Make sure to enjoy that because once it’s not hot anymore-“

She finishes his sentence, “It’s not hot anymore. I know.”

* * *

Ben is an introvert.

That much is obvious as he sits at dinner and has a conversation with no one. Granted, no one’s talking to him and he can sip on his raspberry lemonade in peace and listen to all the gossip.

His mother says he’s always been observant and a good listener. So when he notices Rey slowly wane from the conversation topic about Finn’s rescue kitten that he got from the pregnant cat under Rose’s deck, he keeps his focus on her.

Her face scrunches occasionally, fingers clutching at her stomach. She left the hot water bottle in the car, and maybe that was a mistake, but it won’t be hot by the time he gets it. No, she’s suffering now and he’s not sure what to do.

He nudges her, since she’s sitting right next to him. Rey looks over and he whispers, close to her ear, “I can get you my portable heating pad, just say the word.”

She nods and thankfully they’re tacked at the end of booth seating so he doesn’t have to jostle her or too many other people at this dinner. Then he remembers that she’ll want to be with him to put it on, since too many questions could arise if they put it on at the table. He leans over again and says, “Come with me.”

She moves painfully, and he can relate hard. His lower back is killing him, extra mobile and popping every twenty or so minutes when he shifts the way he sits. Poe notices them getting up and mouths, “You two good?” 

He gives a thumbs up and mouths back, “Be right back.” He nods, sipping his cosmopolitan, and Ben and Rey slowly make their way out of the restaurant and into the parking lot. Luckily, Ben got a space close to the entrance, and he pops his trunk to rifle through the chronic pain bag he keeps in there.

He finds the black and red polka dot heating belt. “Okay so this thing runs off a portable battery, but it has to go under your dress.” She bites her lip.

He then says, “So I was thinking you could put it on in the backseat and then I can help you hook up the cord.”

“Is there any way this won’t show under my dress?”

Based on how tight it is, he has to shake his head. “It’s okay, I don’t think anyone will judge you. If they do, then you tell them you’re in pain.” It’s easier said than done; Ben’s been confronted about his chronic illness products in public, and usually all he can do is stutter.

She looks apprehensive and he argues. “Look, you’re in pain. Would it be a fair assessment to say you don’t deserve to hurt?” 

She nods, and then he replies, “Okay, so you need not be in pain, Rey. Now please get in the backseat and put this on.” He thrusts out the heating belt to her and she sighs, before nodding and getting in the back of the Subaru. He minds his business outside of the car and keeps watch for any creeps.

When the door opens, he ducks in, averting his eyes from her toned legs or how tight the skirt is pulled back in place. There’s no use in having inappropriate thoughts about his roommate. 

He pulls the portable battery from where he stashed it in his back pocket, then plugging it in. Then he looks for a place, a pocket, anything to stash the battery in.

“I think there’s a place to tuck it into the belt, and you’ll need to pull your skirt up to operate the buttons. So I’ll duck out but come out when you’re ready.” She nods, looking like she’s in a little bit of pain. He leaves the car and slams the door, leaning against it as he waits again.

The wait isn’t super long, Rey knocking on the window against his back and getting him to move. She painfully exits the car and smooths out her front. There's a small bulge on her hip from the battery, and the belt definitely shows.

She looks discouraged and he says, “Hey, you’re in pain. No one can blame you for trying to alleviate it.” 

She shrugs, walking away from him and back towards the restaurant in her spotty black and white Keds. 

Ben hopes that she’s less hard on herself soon.

* * *

Rey did not expect Ben to pay for her meal.

But when the waitress asks who’s splitting checks, he picks up her tab like no big deal. 

Rey was totally ready and willing to pay for a seventeen dollar pasta and an eight dollar slice of cheesecake because it’s Poe’s birthday and she can treat herself if she feels like it. These last two to three weeks have been a hellish blur of pain. 

He signs the combined check with a flourish, not even glancing at her still dumbfounded expression at the fact that he paid for her meal. Without even a care in the world, Ben Solo took care of something for her. Come to think of it, he’s ultimately a kind guy from what he’s displayed towards her. 

Her pain has gotten worse, but the heating pad has kept it at least manageable. Rey doesn’t feel up for karaoke, given it hurts a lot to walk. Ben looks a little unhappy too, face occasionally twisting up as they wait on the fringes outside for everyone to congregate and get their shit together.

Poe asks, “Rey, you coming to karaoke?” 

This is the time to make her decision, and luckily Poe gives her an opportunity to think about it, “What about you, Ben?”

Ben grumbles, “I hate karaoke, so no.” 

She wishes he’d like it, but Rey gets it. He’s in pain, he’s grumpy and doesn’t want to sing songs. She has her answer for him, “I would but I’m not feeling very good. So I think Ben is just going to take us home.” 

Poe nods, not even offended by this. “Oh no worries guys, it means the world that you came to dinner. I know it’s been a hard week for the both of you.” 

She smiles in appreciation and Ben outwardly says, “Thank you. Rey, ready to head out?”

She nods, and they both take their leave with little waves. The car isn’t far thankfully and she gets in and sighs heavily at another long cramp rolling through her belly. It feels like a rag getting wrung out, twisting up tight. 

Ben says, as he starts the car, “I assume you’re not better.” 

She nods and confesses, “I think that there’s something really, really wrong, Ben. This isn’t normal.” 

He shakes his head, “No, this amount of pain isn’t normal. For neither of us probably. Do you think it could be weather?”

She answers, “It’s always rainy, so I don’t see how that could affect us this bad suddenly.” 

He shrugs and backs out of the space, rain beginning to patter on the windshield as he makes his way out of the parking lot. She focuses on her breathing, trying to will the pain away.

He says, and she’s not sure he knows what he’s saying, “We’ll figure it out. Both of us, I believe in us.” 

She can’t help but be meek, “I hope so.” 

She really does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys are enjoying this! thoughts and feelings welcome at [twitter](https://twitter.com/dankobah).
> 
> chapter title is inspired by []()
> 
> [yellow dress](https://www.hellomolly.com/us/dresses/mini/i-love-you-baby-dress-yellow.html)   
>  [what the fuck is Cheesecake Factory?](https://www.thecheesecakefactory.com/menu/)   
>  []()   
>  []()

**Author's Note:**

> hi should not be starting this but this helps me a lot tbh. thanks for indulging me. thoughts and feelings welcome at [twitter](https://twitter.com/dankobah)
> 
> work title is inspired by [”beside you” by marianas trench](https://open.spotify.com/track/0YBXY9xG4L6I0yWAUaV99I?si=nOawhzhxRSGNW1BShcbbAA)  
> chapter title is inspired by [“broken” by kim petras](https://open.spotify.com/track/3bXo40LAjqGRiYm5tGcqTB?si=_8AhQZP1RpGwh4P7LjYw_g)


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